The Wheezing Bogeyman
by Power of the Wol
Summary: The Wheezing Bogeyman, A shadow that comes out at night, A wheezing noise when the clock reads late, When you hear him don't take fright, Only a look will seal your fate.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

_The Wheezing Bogeyman,_

_A shadow that comes out at night,_

_A wheezing noise when the clock reads late,_

_When you hear him don't take fright,_

_Only a look will seal your fate._

The lilac horse Toon, Katarina awoke with a start, her heart pounding. _What was that?_ A noise had awoken her from her slumber. The sound of something smashing on the floor. She sat up in bed, and held her breath and listened. Nothing. Perhaps she had imagined it. Wait. What was that?

Katarina quietly pulled back the covers and got out of bed. She crept across to the door and very slowly and carefully, pulled it open.

The Toon could hear the sounds from downstairs clearer, now that the door was open. She had assumed it was some kind of Cog making an after hours visit to her shop but what Cog wheezed in such a manner? Sounded like he had asthma or some other breathing problem. Katarina swallowed and silently descended the stairs. She could hear his or her wheezing coming from the kitchen. The lilac horse reached the door, took a deep breath and quietly pushed it open. At first she could see no one. The wheezing was all around her now; she could not pinpoint where in the kitchen they were. She pushed the door open further and it creaked on its hinges. Katarina froze as the wheezing stopped.

There was a deathly silence for a moment before the intruder spoke.

"_Don't. . . look at me_," he rasped, a strange mechanised edge to his voice.

Katarina did the opposite, whipping around in fright at the sudden noise. Her eyes beheld a hunched, large-for-a-Toon figure wrapped in a heavy, black, woollen cloak.

"DON'T LOOK AT ME!" he shrieked and lunged at her, claw-like hands out stretched. As he leapt, his hood fell back allowing her a clear view of his face. And she screamed at the sight of it.


	2. Chapter 1: Fated Encounter

**Chapter 1: Fated Encounter**

Sergeant James Mayhew yawned and rubbed his eyes. The black cat hauled himself out of bed and looked out of the window. The first snow of Christmas had begun to fall from the sky, blanketing the ground in white. He could see a small group of young Toons wrapped up warm in coats, red hats and thick red scarves building a snowman together. A snowball fight broke out shortly after they had finished and it bought a smile to his face.

* * *

Mayhew sipped his coffee as he glanced over the morning newspaper.

The headline _'The Wheezing Bogeyman Strikes Again'_ jumped out at him and he flipped it open and began to read.

_'Police uncovered the body of yet another murdered Toon early this morning. While conservative regarding the details they have confirmed that it is the work of he who has come to be known as 'The Wheezing Bogeyman'.'_

Mayhew sighed as he tossed the newspaper back onto the table, his mood soured. The Wheezing Bogeyman had showed up five or six years ago and they had yet to catch him. Although he was not on the team assigned to the investigation, he still remembered that day well, as did the rest of Toontown he imagined.

* * *

_Sgt Mayhew approached the Police Station in a casual manner. Looking back he could not say how, but as soon as he stepped through the doors he knew something was up. As if it had been in the atmosphere._

"_James! James!" his colleague called, running up to him in an agitated manner._

_He frowned at the blue pig. "What's up, Roger?"_

"_Oh James, you're not going to believe what's just been found. Not for an instant."_

_Mayhew gave him a baffled look. "What is it?"_

_Roger swallowed. "You'd better come see the pictures for yourself."_

_The blue pig scurried away and the black cat had to run to keep up. He was lead to the briefing room where pictures of the deceased Toon, a purple monkey, were stuck up on a board. A solemn-faced Chief of Police spoke up, "Sorry lads, you two aren't on the case. Leave."_

_He stumbled, reeling, from the room and had struggled through the rest of the day in a daze; what had attacked that Toon with such ferocity?_

* * *

James checked his watch, chugged down the rest of his coffee, gathered his hat, coat and scarf, threw down a black hole onto the ground, put them on and jumped in. He emerged seconds later outside the Daisy Gardens Police Station and headed inside.

"Hey, James," the receptionist, a brown mouse called by way of greeting. "You got mail."

"In my office?"

"Where else?"

He hurried to his office and roughly pushed the door open.

"Morning, James," his colleague Roger Parker greeted him.

"Morning," he mumbled picking up the thick brown envelope and ripping it open. His eyes skimmed the document. "Rejected!" the black cat cried. The Toon threw it down on the desk in frustration and collapsed down in his seat.

Roger looked up from his newspaper. "They rejected you?"

"Yeah," he growled. "Not enough experience. Like I can get experience investigating a murder on another case."

The blue pig gave him a sad face. "Had your heart set on The Wheezing Bogeyman case, huh?"

"Sure did. Whoever that sicko is, he's going down." He sighed. "I just wanted to be the one to do it."

Roger gave him a look. "Who doesn't?"

* * *

Sgt James Mayhew shoved his hands into the pockets of his brown trenchcoat and scowled at the ground as he sulked along the streets of Toontown Central. He was on his usual Night Patrol duty. And he was starting to loathe it more and more each night. He should be on the team, helping them to hunt down the Wheezing Boogeyman.

James growled out loud and kicked at the ground. He stopped and heaved a sigh. This was no way for a responsible police officer to be behaving, he admonished. Night Patrol duty was just as important. And who knew, maybe he would-. . . What was that?

The black Toon's ears twitched and he cranked up his hearing. The silence was deafening. Then he heard it again. Sound of something shattering. A bauble? James frowned. A bauble being crushed by something metal. Some Cog was vandalising Christmas decorations. Mayhew smirked and reached into his gag bag to pull out a cream pie. Well this Cog was going to get the surprise of his life. He followed the noise, cranking down his hearing as he approached so as not to deafen himself.

That house. . . that was the home of Toontown's resident genius inventor, Gyro Gearloose. James noticed that the entrance to Gyro's workshop was closed, no surprise, as was his front door. He crept around to the back entrance. Bingo. The Cog had left the door slightly ajar and from inside he could hear it continuing to vandalise Gyro's Christmas decorations. . . Was that a wheezing noise?

Mayhew's heart leapt in his chest. Could it be? He swallowed. It was one thing to want to catch him but taking him on alone was another thing entirely. Capable of killing a Toon and no one knew what he was; survivors of an encounter had done so because they had not layed eyes up on him. He glanced at the cream pie in his now shaking hand. Would this even work?

Gathering up his courage, he pushed open the door and headed inside, one trembling step at a time. The wheezing was loud and unmistakable; it was definitely him.

James glanced around him taking in his surroundings. He was in Gyro's kitchen. The fridge was open and it was clear that it had been looted. Through the open door that led into the hallway he could see the remains of several tinsel decorations. The wheezing seemed to be coming from a room on the left. His living room perhaps?

Movement caught his attention. Someone was descending the stairs. From his distinctive outline and long tail feathers, Mayhew swiftly identified the figure as being Gyro himself. So focused was the rooster Toon on the intruder in his living room that he did not notice James join him at the door.

"_Gyro_?"

Gyro let out a yelp of fright before clapping a hand to his beak. "_You frightened the life out me!_"

The black Toon gave him an apologetic grin. "_Sorry_."

"_Well now _he_ knows we're here._"

"No going back now, then," Mayhew replied aloud, cheerfully and kicked the door open.

Gyro swore later that his heart stopped beating then.

Standing stock-still in the middle of the room, clearly about to have made a run for it through the living room window was a large-for-a-Toon figure wrapped in a heavy, black, woollen cloak. "_Don't look at me,_" he rasped, covering his head with his arms and seeming to shrink in on himself. Although his voice had a strange robotic edge to it, his left foot which was in the full light of the moon shining in through the window was unquestionably organic. He was some kind of Toon!

The two continued to stare at him with mouthes agape.

"What _are_ you?" James breathed.

"DON'T LOOK AT ME!" he shrieked and lunged at them.

Gyro dodged right as Mayhew dodged left. The Wheezing Bogeyman sailed through the door and hit the side of the staircase.

The black cat hauled out his walkie talkie. "Back up!" he hollered into it. "I need back up! Gyro's house! It's the Wheezing Bogeyman!"

"_Say what_?" came the startled response.

"You heard me!"

The Bogeyman grasped the banister as he got to his feet, crushing it easily in his grasp. He growled at them and hissed. "_Next time,_" then shot out of the back door.

"After him!" James grasped Gyro's wrist and hauled him along.

"Have you lost your mind?" the rooster yelped. "You saw what he did to my banister! And I'm still in my pajamas! Let go of my wrist!"

"But he's getting away!"

"LET GO!"

The black cat did as he was told. As Gyro headed back into his house he watched the Bogeyman's retreating back with a sullen look. James frowned recalling the way his other foot had clunked as he ran. Which could only mean that his other foot was made of metal. . .


	3. Chapter 2: The Old House

**Chapter 2: The Old House**

_Pop, pop, pop_.

Sgt James Mayhew looked around at the Toons who had answered his call for back up. He sighed. "You're a little late, guys, he's already got away."

"What happened?" asked Inspector Morse, a tall, dark green mouse.

"I heard a noise from Gyro's house, thought it was a Cog vandalising his Christmas decorations. In short. It wasn't."

"Well you were lucky."

"Yeah, tell me about it."

The Toon who appeared to be in charge turned to one of his colleagues. "Let's get Forensics in here."

* * *

Mayhew trudged over and slumped down in the seat next to a now fully dressed Gyro Gearloose.

They were both outside in Gyro's garden. The rooster was watching the forensics team trudging in, out and about his house.

He glanced up at the steadily brightening sky and then back at Gyro. "Hey, uh, want a coffee?"

The Toon yawned and rubbed his eyes. "I guess. Not like I'll be getting back to sleep after this is over."

James nodded. "All right, I'll have to go back to the station to get some, so I'll be right back." He pulled out a black hole and jumped in.

* * *

The door to the kitchen was thrown open and Mayhew jumped in alarm, nearly spilling burning hot milk all over himself.

"James!" Roger cried. "I heard the news! Are you all right?"

"I'm fine. He ran as soon as I called for back up."

The blue pig scratched his chin and frowned. "I wonder why, it's not like he could not have taken you all on, from what I've heard."

"Yeah. . ." he replied absently.

"Coffee for two? Who's the other coffee for?"

"Gyro."

"Whoa, _the_ Gyro?"

"The one and only."

"Wow, what's he like?"

"Uh. Dunno. We just met." He picked up both mugs of coffee and stood there for a minute. "Say, Roger, could you do the honours?"

"Sure, no problem." The blue pig whipped out a black hole and threw it on the ground. "See ya, James."

"Yeah, later, Roge."

* * *

The Toons sat side by side saying nothing, breaking the silence every so often to sip their coffee.

Mayhew felt a little awkward but Gyro seemed to be completely at ease. The morning wore on and at last the forensics team converged outside.

"What do you have for me, Marcus?" Inspector Morse asked.

Marcus, an orange duck held up a collection of baggies. "These baubles were handled by the subject. We'll be taking the remains back to the lab for analysis. And this thread of clothing. We're hoping to get some DNA samples off it, but we should at least be able to tell you what type of clothes he wears if we can't."

Morse smiled. "It must be our lucky day today." He turned to his colleagues. "All right, I'd say your shift's over. There's nothing left to do but wait on Forensics."

James and Gyro watched as the teams pulled out their black holes and vanished into them.

"Mayhew, come here."

He pulled himself up from his seat and slouched over to him. "What is it, Morse?"

"You said in your statement that you didn't know it was the Bogeyman, until you were facing off with him."

"That's right."

"Isn't the Bogeyman known for his distinctive and unmistakable wheezing? Hence The Wheezing Bogeyman?"

". . ."

"And furthermore, you are a cat Toon, renowned for their unrivaled hearing."

". . ."

"You were reckless weren't you?"

Mayhew dropped his gaze to the floor.

"This sort of behaviour could either get you killed or thrown off the force. I suggest you leave the Wheezing Bogeyman to the professionals, Mayhew. For your own sake."

He bit back a scathing response and nodded, mumbling. "Yes, sir."

Morse pulled out a black hole and threw it on the ground. He nodded to Gyro. "Mr Gearloose," then jumped into it.

Mayhew kicked the ground in furstration, then became aware that Gyro was still watching him. The rooster returned his gaze with a placcid expression. Then James noticed a brightly coloured object lying in the snow. He approached it and crouched down for a better look. It was a shard of crushed bauble. Must have been stuck to the Bogeyman and had fallen off as he made a run for it. Did the team miss it or did they not think it was important? Afterall, they already had more shards in the house to chose from. He traced the path of the Bogeyman's flight but did not see anything else. The black cat found himself standing before Gyro's garden wall which the Bogeyman had vaulted over. He blinked and peered closer. It seemed that his organic foot had hit the wall as he had jumped for he could see some strands of grey-purple fur. The Toon let out an involuntary gasp which drew Gyro over.

"What is it?"

He was taken aback when the black cat suddenly clung to his arm. "Our big break!" he squealed with delight.

"Please let go of my arm."

"Gyro, look there, what do you see?"

The rooster looked. And his eyes widened. "Goodness! We should notify Morse at once!"

"Wait!"

Gyro blinked. "What?"

"I've got an idea. Do you think you could build some device that could track the Bogeyman, using these strands of fur?"

He scratched his chin and frowned in thought. "Well I could give it a try."

"Right now?"

"Why not?" Gyro pulled out of Mayhew's grasp and headed into his workshop.

* * *

James Mayhew wondered absently around Gyro Gearloose's workshop, stopping to examine the odd invention every now and then. The hours dragged by as Gyro toiled away.

"There!" he announced suddenly, startling Mayhew into jumping. The black cat hurried over to investigate. In the rooster's hand was a small hand held device with a screen on it.

"Now then, I insert the samples here. The computer analyses it, and his location will show up on this screen."

"Let's do it!"

"But shouldn't we-?"

"We'll tell them when we have something more concrete. Consider this a test run if you will."

"Uh, okay. But we shouldn't contaminate the sample. So one moment, I need to fetch some tweezers." He diasppeared back into his house and reapeared shortly after with a pair of tweezers in hand. One by one he fed all the strands fur he could find into the scanner. It beeped and hummed and then a faint signal appeared on the screen. "We've got something! This way!"

* * *

The scanner led them through Punchline Place to Donald's Dock, out into Acorn Acres and finally to an old house that had clearly seen better days.

James frowned. "Wait a second. This house. I've seen it before."

"Where?"

He screwed up his face trying hard to remember. "Ugh, it's on the tip of my tongue."

"Well don't hurt yourself, now."

"That's the one! Violet Jellyroll!"

"Violet Jellyroll? Wasn't that the name of the first murdered Toon?"

The black cat nodded. "Yup. That's the one. This was her house and where they found her. I'm not on the team so I don't know all the details, but I've been scrounging as much info as I can get. Lessee what else I got." He thought for a moment. "Oh that's right, the house was joint owned with her sister, I can't remember her name. But she went missing about a decade or so beforehand."

Gyro frowned. "So why is the Wheezing Bogeyman using the house of his first victim as his base of operations?"

Mayhew looked around. "No one's been here for years. It's quiet? Out of the way? No one would think to look here?"

"True, but I have a feeling it runs deeper than that."

"Yeah. I know what you mean." He gave the house a look over. "Gyro, can your gizmo tell if the Bogeyman is still here?"

"Yup, it'd be reading a stronger signal, all I'm getting are traces."

"So in other words no-one's home?"

"It's empty, yes. Why?"

James grinned like the Cheshire Cat. "Because we're going to take a look-see."

"Oh no. Must we?"

"I want to poke around before I call this in."

Gyro sighed and scratched the back of his head. "Well, I guess it can't hurt."

"Just don't touch anything."

* * *

The front door creaked open on long unoiled hinges. A fine layer of dust covered the floors and surfaces betraying it the five years of uninhabitance. Mayhew glanced at the floor. There were footprints in the dust. It seemed the Bogeyman still returned here every so often and judging by the tracks, his last visit had been most recent indeed.

The black Toon ventured further in and Gyro nervously followed.

"Uh-um. Mayhew? W-where was Miss Jellyroll murdered?"

"In the kitchen. Her outline should still be there."

"Can we not go in the kitchen, then?"

"Yeah. Of course."

Mayhew paused in front of a mirror that had once hung on the wall in the hallway; it had been smashed. He followed the trail of footprints to a door that opening it led down in the cellar. James paused unsure of whether or not he wanted to descend. He'd overheard some members of the team talking about a 'freaky room'. And the cellar seemed the likely candidate.

"Um, Gyro, you sure the Bogeyman's not here?"

Gyro moved out of the dining room. "Yup. The scanner's still only registering faint traces. He's not here."

"Where could he have gone, I wonder?"

"Well I picked up a trail heading to Daisy's Gardens. . ."

"We should check that next."

"Say, Mayhew. I've noticed that all the pictures of Violet Jellyroll, the ones in the dining room at least have been vandelised. . ."

He frowned. "Weird."

Gyro glanced at the staircase leading down to the cellar. "Are we going down there?"

"Uh. Yeah. I was just waiting for you."

"After you, then."

Mayhew fumbled for the light when they reached the bottom. It flickered on and they both recoiled in horror, clinging to each other for comfort.

The walls of the cellar were covered in insane ramblings and sentences. _Have you ever seen a face like that?_

_What are you?_

_Freak!_

_What am I?_

_You're a freak! A Monster!_

_You don't belong._

_Don't look at me!_

There was more, but neither were willing to spend anymore time in the room to read it.

"Let's go! Please?" Gyro whimpered.

"You can say that again."

The two bolted back up out of the cellar and out of the house altogether.

Mayhew shivered and gave the house one more look over. "All right. You said there was another trace leading to Daisy Gardens? Let's go check it out."

"Wait. Does that look wrong to you?"

James looked over to where Gyro was pointing. "Yeah, it does."

They exchanged glances and approached what had looked like a patch of overgrown shrubs.

They exchanged glances and approached a patch of disturbed snow.

The duo shovelled the snow out of the way, shifted aside the shrubs that lay beneath and gasped in unison. "A gravestone. . ."

"Here lies Margaret Jellyroll. Beloved, daughter, sister. . . _mother_?"


	4. Chapter 3: To Catch a Bogeyman

**Chapter 3: To Catch a Bogeyman**

Sgt. James Mayhew gawked at the gravestone. "Mother?" he repeated. "That can't be. There was no mention of a son or nephew or a daughter or niece. In either case, nor in the newspaper reports."

Gyro Gearloose said nothing, merely watched as Mayhew paced up and down.

"Let me see if I can get my facts straight. About eighteen years ago, Margaret Jellyroll went missing. However, her disappearance was not reported by her sister Violet, rather friends who had not seen her for some time. Miss Violet when questioned-"

"If I may interrupt?"

The black stared him surprised. "What?"

"You do realise I'm a civilian?"

"I have realised yes, you'd've read all this in the papers, even if you don't remember it. But this was nearly twenty years ago."

"Okay."

"I'd only just joined the force then," he reminisced. "Anyway, where was I? Oh yes, Miss Violet admitted to not having seen her for some time, but only when formally questioned. She said Miss Margaret had been assigned an undercover mission to infiltrate Sellbot Headquarters and had assumed that she had been captured.

Now then. This gravestone tells us that she is dead and buried, but was this before the murder or after? Mind you Forensics were all over the place when investigating Miss Violet's murder, surely they would have spotted it?"

Gyro shrugged. "The team were all over the murder site, right? And we found it covered in intentionally placed overgrowth. They could have missed it."

"True. But anyway. The Wheezing Bogeyman, no one knows what he is, or where he came from, only that he so loathes his appearance that he will kill anyone who looks at him. It seems to me that he came from this household. Does that mean that he is Miss Margaret's son? And if so, why did Miss Violet not say anything about him? Ugh! So many questions to which I don't have the answer."

"It would seem the only one who could answer that is the Bogeyman himself."

Mayhew pulled out a black hole and threw it on the ground. "I'll be right back. I'm calling this in to Inspector Frost." He jumped in and reappeared shortly after with a short, stocky, brown bear in tow.

"Well I'll be." Inspector Frost approached the grave with a, well a grave expression. "Poor Miss Jellyroll. At least I can tell her friends where she is. Only wish I could say what happened to her."

"Sir, was this grave here when Forensics were investigating Miss Violet's death?"

"Who knows? They were only investigating the murder scene. There was no need to search the grounds as there was no murder weapon; he killed her with his bare hands." He turned his attention to the gravestone and frowned. "Wait what's this? Mother? How can that be? There was no mention of a child by either her friends or family."

"If you want answers, I believe the Wheezing Bogeyman himself is the only one who can answer that. He came from this household, that I'm sure of."

"You think _he_ is the child?"

"Only one way to find out."

Inspector Frost grimaced. "Only problem is you'd have to get Morse involved and you're not involved in either case; he'd throw you out."

"Not if I'm on _your_ team."

The brown bear chuckled. "How did I know you were going to say that?" He reached into his pocket to pull out a black hole.

"Wait, before we go back, Gyro's scanner picked up a trail heading towards Daisy's Gardens."

"Hmm. Well I suppose it can't hurt to check it out first." He extended a hand to the rooster who had up until this point been staying quiet. They shook hands. "Inspector Jack Frost."

"Gyro Gearloose."

"Lead the way, then, Mr Gearloose."

Gyro was more than happy to oblige.

* * *

The trio stared at the sight that lay before them. In fact they had been for a few minutes now.

"Sellbot Headquarters?" Mayhew gawked.

Frost frowned at it in bewilderment. "Well now. How does this fit it?"

"You know, there's something I've been wondering," said Gyro. "We know the Bogeyman is part Toon. But I wonder if he is also part Cog. That would explain a lot."

"Everything except how that's possible," James replied.

"And, if Miss Margaret is his mother, who his father is," Frost added.

"Does that matter?"

"It could do."

"What should we do now?" Gyro asked.

"Nothing more we can do at the moment, except report in."

The three Toons pulled out their black holes, threw them on the ground and jumped in.

* * *

"Ah yes. Your completion of the CID training course has just been officialised. I believe you'll find a certificate appearing on your desk at some point," the Chief of Police, a tall, solemn-faced royal blue horse informed them.

Mayhew grinned. "So I'm qualified to join Inspector Frost's team?"

"Indeed. As well as introducing yourself as DC Mayhew."

The black cat suppressed a squeal of delight.

"Now then, Chief," Frost began. "We have some new information regarding the Margaret Jellyroll disappearance. We believe the Bogeyman has the answer."

Chief McVitie blinked in surprise. "The Bogeyman? What makes you say that?"

"DC Mayhew here found her grave at the Jellyroll house. As well as evidence that the Bogeyman uses it for a base."

"On Miss Margaret's gravestone appears the words "Beloved daughter, sister, mother," Mayhew interjected. "There was no mention of a child by either friends or family. I believe the Bogeyman is the son of Margaret Jellyroll. Of course the Bogeyman is the only one who can tell us if I'm correct."

McVitie frowned "But what makes you think that?"

"It would explain why he keeps going back there among other things."

The blue horse conceded the point with a nod. "Then there really is only one way to find out. The question is. How are we to catch him?"

James scratched his chin and then hurried out of McVitie's office to where Gyro Gearloose was waiting, munching on some cookies. "Gyro, we need to know where the Bogeyman will appear so we can set a trap for him. Can you help us?"

The rooster swallowed the rest of his cookie. "Well _I_ can't help you, but I know someone who can."

* * *

McVitie, Gyro and James emerged in front of a house that looked somewhat familiar. "Master Gearloose, the mathematician?" McVitie asked. "How can he help us?"

Gyro smiled. "You'll see."

Instead of heading into the house, the rooster lead them round back to a large shed. The light was on and the sound of frenzied scribbling on blackboard could be heard. He pulled the door open and headed inside. Mayhew and McVitie exchanged looks and followed.

A tall, lanky rooster with red hair was peering intently at a piece of paper in his hand.

"Newton?"

No response. Gyro sighed and tugged on the young Toon's sleeve to get his attention.

Newton looked around in surprise as he pulled his headphones off. "Uncle Gyro? When did you get here?"

"Just now."

He pulled his headphones off all together and began hauling a table and some chairs together. "Please, sit down. And can-"

"Forgive me for being rude," McVitie replied. "But Gyro Gearloose brought us here because he believes you can help us work out where the Bogeyman will strike next."

* * *

Newton Gearloose slapped a giant map of Toontown onto the board in Daisy's Garden's Police Station's briefing room and held it in place while his uncle stuck the corners down with blue tack. Chief McVitie turned to the group of Toons assembled before him. Inspectors Morse and Frost, DC Mayhew were present as well as the teams assigned to the Wheezing Bogeyman and Margaret Jellyroll cases respectively.

"From the information I've been given, I've calculated the likelihood of the Bogeyman appearing at certain places in Toontown," Newton explained gesturing to the marks he had made on the map.

"The team will be divided small groups," McVitie continued. "Each of you will be assigned a location to guard.

Since these are only approximate estimations, you'll have to keep your ears sharp and your eyes peeled."

A Toon raised his hand. "Um Biscu-er, Chief. How are we going to apprehend the Bogeyman?"

McVitie turned to Gyro.

The rooster cleared his throat. "Uh well, we believe that he is half Cog." Astonished looks and startled gasps greeted this statement. "The results from the lab came back. They confirmed traces of the metal on the bauble shards that is used to construct Cogs, although it was not synthesised in the usual manner and the strand of fabric is from a Sellbot suit, the colour of that worn by the Senior Vice President of Sales. I have concluded that he is a Cog/Toon Hybrid constructed by a machine, though considering the way he was put together Cyborg would be the more correct term. I have theorised that specific Gags will be effective against him; Drop, Squirt and perhaps Sound."

"You will use one or all of these Gags to incapacitate him and then bring him in for interrogation. Any questions?"

"What if the Gags don't work?" Another Toon from the team asked.

"You retreat."

He divided the team into their groups and they moved out.

* * *

Inspectors Frost, Morse, DC Mayhew and Gyro Gearloose sat, hunkered down opposite Margaret Jellyroll's gravestone which had been recovered to avoid causing alarm. They were concealed by another invention of Gyro's; a holographic device that made them look like a small snow drift.

Mayhew heaved a sigh and was elbowed by Morse.

"Keep quiet," the mouse snapped.

"Sorry," he mumbled.

"And I'm not happy about a civilian being here."

"We told you," Frost sighed. "There were no more technicians available and it would be simpler bringing Gyro along instead of us trying to get our heads around his gizmos."

"And I already said I'd run if things got out of hand," the rooster added.

"What's the time?" Mayhew asked.

Gyro consulted his light up watch. "Gone 1AM."

"We've been here for hours," the black cat sighed. "Are we even sure he's going to-" he broke off when he registered the sound of footsteps approaching.

Frost blinked. "What? What do you hear?"

"Someone's coming."

"The Bogeyman?"

Gyro consulted his scanner and frowned. "Can't be. My scanner isn't registering anything."

"Then who. . . ?" he trailed off when a cloaked figure strode into view. It stopped at the gravestone, shifted the snow and undergrowth then after a moment of just standing there staring at it heaved a sigh.

"What do we do?" Mayhew asked in as low a whisper as he could manage.

"We should bring it in," Morse replied.

Frost calculated the distance between them and the figure. "We're too far back, we need to get closer."

"Who's idea was it to set up camp so far from the grave?" he muttered.

"Yours," his companions replied.

"Oh."

Gyro carefully picked up the holographic and the group crept slowly forward. The figure bent down one knee and placed one hand on the gravestone. There was a scraping of metal as it ran its hand across the engraving. "Marge. I'm sorry I couldn't come sooner. But you know how it is."

"That voice," Morse gawked. "That's-"

The figure stood up sharply and whipped around "Who's there?!"

Frost pressed the button on his Drop Gag trigger box and an anvil fell out of the sky, hitting the figure square on the head.

"Oof!" the anvil bounced off his head and he fell to his hands and knees.

Gyro deactivated the holodevice and the four gathered in a loose semicircle around him.

"Stand down, Cog," Morse advised. "Or should I say, Senior Vice President of Sales?"

"Hmph. I guess my voice isn't that hard to recognise." He got to his feet and pulled off the hood of his cloak confirming his identity as that of the VP in an apparently much smaller form. The Sellbot Boss glanced around at the Gags the four Toons had broken out. All of them Level Sevens of course. He sighed and raised his hands. "All right, Toons. You got me. I surrender."

"A wise move. Now if you wouldn't mind accompanying us back to the station, we have questions we want to ask you."

The VP sneered at him. "I'm sure you do."

Frost pulled out a giant black hole and threw it on the ground. Morse and Mayhew seized the Sellbot's arms and pulled him in. The black hole closed behind them leaving Gyro and Frost to make their way back to Daisy's Garden's Police Station via their own.

**So people don't get the wrong idea: Newton Gearloose is (c) Disney.**


	5. Chapter 4: Interrogation

**Chapter 4: Interrogation**

The Senior Vice President of Sales glanced around the room with a bored expression. Even though this was an interrogation was he was surprised at how colourless it was. Truth be told he felt quite a home here. The desk he was set before was a dull green metal table and he ran a hand over it appreciatively.

Inspectors Frost, Morse, DC Mayhew and Chief McVitie stared him through a two-way mirror.

"Well gentlemen," McVitie began. "I believe it is time you got started. Is everything set up?"

They nodded.

"Then begin. And don't relent until he gives you everything."

* * *

The Sellbot smiled pleasantly at the three Toons when they entered. "Good morning, gentlemen."

Morse snorted as he and Frost took their seats opposite him. Frost reached over to the tape recorder that had been set on the table and pressed the record button. "Detective Inspectors Jack Frost and Endeavour Morse with Detective Constable James Mayhew in attendance. Interrogation begins at 0534 hours."

Mayhew was leaning against the wall opposite the door, watching the VP warily. Even seated the VP was easily twice his height.

"We're going to ask you some questions, Vice President. We want you to answer them honestly."

"Knock yourself out. But don't expect me to answer them; I don't recognise your authority. I'm only playing along."

"What were you doing at the grave of Margaret Jellyroll?" Morse began.

"You tell me."

"It sounded like you were visiting the grave of a loved one," Frost added.

"What was the time? Wasn't it late? Toon brains become muddled with lack of sleep, perhaps you were imagining things?"

"You loved her, didn't you?" Mayhew stated more than asked.

The VP turned his gaze on him. "Did I? Perhaps we were just friends?"

Morse's eyebrows shot up. "So you admit to having some form of relationship with Margaret Jellyroll?"

He cursed under his breath. "All right, fine, you got me. Yes. I knew that Toon.

She was caught sneaking around in my Headquarters. We got to talking, we became friends. Simple as that."

"Did you kill her?"

"No! Whatever happened to Marge, I had nothing to do with it."

"But Miss Violet?"

"What about her?"

"Did you kill _her_?"

"What makes you think I did?"

"If you were friends with her sister, surely she must have known about it. Perhaps she didn't like it. Threatened to tell."

"And I killed her? For that? Friendship is hardly something to get worked up about. And you're assuming of course that she even knew about it."

"So you're saying you didn't do it?"

"Am I?"

Morse growled in frustration and pulled Frost away from the table over to where Mayhew was standing.

"_He's playing with us,_" Frost observed casually.

"_That because he's not the Bogeyman_," Mayhew replied. "_We need to go back to the grave and stake it out until we catch him_."

"You don't need to do that," the VP spoke up.

The green mouse gave him a sceptical look. "And why is that?"

"Because you've already caught him."

Mayhew stared at him. "You can't be."

"Why not?"

"For one, you're too tall. Two, you don't have an organic foot and three, you sound nothing like him."

The VP snorted. "I never said I was the Wheezing Bogeyman in this body. The 'organic' foot was actually metal covered in synthetic fur. And finally, _you mean like_ _this_?"

The black cat shivered in recognition.

"Does this mean you're going to tell us everything?" Morse asked?

"After you take a seat." He waited politely for them to do so. "Mayhew was it? You were right. I loved Margaret. She told her sister about us. Violet freaked and threatened to tell everyone so I killed her."

"So why kill other Toons, steal food and vandalise Christmas decorations?" asked Frost.

"As part of the charade. Everything I have done; stealing food, destroying Christmas decorations, the words on the gravestone, it was all with the intent to create the Legend of the Wheezing Bogeyman and to cover up the truth of the first murder. Although for the Christmas decorations, I'm a Cog, I couldn't help myself."

"If you were doing everything as a cover, why wear your suit? A single strand would connect you to them," Morse reasoned.

"I didn't have much of a choice in the clothing department. Asking for fabric of any other colour than the one I wear would look suspicious. And even if I wiped memories, someone would still notice that fabric is missing."

"Why not steal from Toons th-" Frost was cut off by the Sellbot's angry response.

"I will NOT wear Toon clothes!"

"All right then. What happened to Miss Margaret?"

The VP sulked in his chair for a moment. "She was horrified by what I'd done. We broke up. I don't know what happened to her."

James snorted. "I don't believe any of this. You know what makes sense?"

"Do tell."

"The Bogeyman is your son. Miss Violet locked him in her basement and was cruel to him. When he was finally strong enough to escape, he killed her and then came to you. But since you do not have the sustenance he needs, he steals food from Toons. Thanks to his time with his aunt, he has come to loathe his appearance and will kill anyone that looks at him. As for vandalising Christmas decorations, it's a time of happiness and cheer and he hates it, either because you taught him to, or because happiness was the one thing he didn't have growing up, or even a combination of both."

The VP sighed. "I assume you concluded that from what's written on her gravestone. Marge wanted a child, but I couldn't find a way to give her one in life. I put it on her gravestone as a way to give her one in death. I have no son, Mayhew; the Bogeyman is me."

"Well there's one way to confirm it. We have metal scrapings collected from Gyro Gearloose's house. If we take a sample from you we can analyse it in the lab and compare it with the sample we already have," Frost suggested.

He smiled and held out a hand. "Be my guest."

* * *

DC James Mayhew paced back and forth in front of calm and collected Gyro Gearloose. The rooster had stayed behind for consultation purposes if the need arose. It had been a couple of hours since the samples had been taken down to the lab.

"Gyro, what did you say about the metal they found in your house?"

"It wasn't forged in the usual manner."

"So that means it was synthesised by a machine?"

"Well. It wasn't forged in the same way that the metal used to create standard Sellbots are. However, the Senior Vice President of Sales is not a standard Sellbot."

Mayhew growled in frustration. "Darn it, not you as well."

Gyro blinked. "Me as well what?"

"You don't actual believe that the VP is the Bogeyman?"

"Why do you believe he isn't?"

"Because it doesn't make sense! It's. . . It's. . . It's too much of a leap of imagination for someone trying to cover up the true motives of a murder. And when he was listing everything he'd done, he didn't mention the basement. Why? Because he didn't write those sentences on the walls. They were clearly the ramblings of someone who had been tormented their whole lives."

Gyro shrugged. "If you say so. But I thought Sellbots were supposed to be imaginative."

"Well what about your scanner? Wasn't it supposed to analyse DNA to create a signal?"

"Not necessarily, it could easily analysed the fibres in the synthetic fur and created a signal from that."

The black cat threw himself down onto the sofa beside Gyro letting out a frustrated sigh.

"Why are you so hooked on this theory anyway?"

He opened his mouth to reply but was interrupted by the return of Inspectors Frost and Morse. "You got the results back?"

The brown bear nodded. "The two samples of metal are identical."

James gawked. "Wh-what?"

Morse sighed. "He said, the samples of metal are identical. He's the Bogeyman."

"But just because they're identical doesn't mean anything. What if the machine that created the Bogeyman effectively cloned his parents. A sample from him would match that of his father, right?"

The two Inspectors stared at him while Gyro scratched his chin in thought.

"Mayhew, the VP said that the words on the grave where false," said Frost.

"Just because he said that, doesn't mean it's true."

"Is there any other evidence, then?" asked Morse, impatiently.

"Well. . . no."

"The evidence supports the VP's claim. It's case closed to the Biscuit, Mayhew. Get over it."

Mayhew threw his black hole onto the ground in frustration and jumped into it. He popped out at Margaret Jellyroll's grave, kicked the ground in frustration and then let out a sigh. He froze when he realised that he could hear a wheezing noise behind him. Then a cold, metal hand clamped down on his shoulder.

"_I told you not to look at me._"


End file.
